


Playing Cupid

by tygermine



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Office, Post-Hogwarts, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:27:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27060448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tygermine/pseuds/tygermine
Summary: Set It Up AU.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 16
Kudos: 51
Collections: Dramione RomCom Fest





	Playing Cupid

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [DramioneRomComFest](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/DramioneRomComFest) collection. 



> Thanks to Bionically Written for the beta and Klawdee for the amazing manip.
> 
> This is just the first chapter. I am definitely going to finish the full fic soonish.

Draco glanced at the clock on the wall. It was after 9pm, and he was still in the office and not by choice.

His employer was Milton Gainsborough, one of the best investment bankers in the country, making all the 30 under 30 lists. One should feel honoured to work for Milton.

Draco didn’t. 

The biggest problem Draco had with Milton was that he did not have a life outside of work. Speaking of, his phone was lighting up.

“Yes, Mr Gainsborough?”

“Order me dinner from that place with the chef that likes to use turmeric on stuff.” The line went dead.

Oh yes, Draco was working for a squib in Muggle London.

With a sigh, he placed a call and went back to waiting.

Milton’s office was located in the Gherkin, a landmark in London.

About forty-five minutes later, Draco went downstairs to pick up his food and stopped short.

There was a harried looking woman with a very familiar mop of hair negotiating with his delivery man.

“Look, I will give you fifty quid for this food,” she said.

“Sorry, I have to hand it to the person who ordered the meal.” The delivery man just earned himself a big tip with that.

“That would be me,” Draco spoke up. ”Evening, Granger.” He paid the delivery man and took the food.

“Malfoy? What...how...why...I need that food.”

“Why don’t you order your own?”

Hermione huffed an irritated sigh. “Everything is already closed, and my boss is not pleasant if she hasn’t eaten.”

“Don’t make your problems mine, Granger.”

He could see the cogs turning in her head and stayed to see what she would come up with.

“Can we split the food? I’ll even pay you for it.” She held up a fifty pound note.

Draco wanted to laugh and tell her to sod off. It was late; he was tired and not in the mood to deal with a situation that really was none of his business. It would serve her right after all the shit she gave him in school. But Draco was consciously trying to be a better person.

He exhaled heavily.

“Fine,” he drawled, handing the bag of food to her.

Hermione sat down on the stone floor of the entrance and quickly divided the meals.

“Wait, why are there three portions?” he asked.

“I haven’t eaten all day.” She quickly repacked the food, keeping her portions one side.

“You can’t…” he began to protest, then realised the futility of it.

She got to her feet. “Thanks. I owe you one.”

With that, she raced over to the lifts and disappeared into one of the waiting cars.

As Draco walked into the offices of Gains Inc, he came face to face with Milton with his coat on, heading towards the door. 

“I’m going to the clubs. Reggie’s project needs to be finished. I'll be in early tomorrow.” Milton didn’t stop, walking right past Draco, who stood there, speechless and holding the bag of food.

It wasn’t the first time Milton had pulled this stunt, and it wouldn’t be the last.

He looked at the time - it was after eleven at night, and he’d been there since seven that morning. Draco threw the takeaway in the bin and headed home.

It was only later as he was falling asleep that he wondered what exactly Hermione Granger was doing in his office building.

***

The next morning, Draco was in the office before seven, scarfing down a breakfast burrito from the Mexican place down the road.

He still had to produce some kind of science project for Milton’s son, Reggie, who by all accounts was a right little wanker who should do his own bloody school work. 

But Draco couldn’t say that to Milton Gainsborough. There was a lot Draco couldn’t say to the man who had made his life rather difficult since he’d started working there.

Some days Draco wanted to tell Milton exactly where to shove his job and his useless child, but then he’d remember that in just a few months, this would all be over and he’d get all his magical rights back.

So Draco bit his tongue and bore the humiliations Milton put him through.

Draco had settled in his seat, thrown away the burrito wrapper, let out a subtle burp and raised his coffee cup to his lips. He gave a spit take when he lowered the rim of the cup to see Hermione Granger standing at his desk.

Her arms were crossed, and her eyes narrowed in an all too familiar pose.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I work here.” He gestured to his desk with its oversized computer screen and tower of files.

“Why?”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business, Granger. But while we’re on the topic, why are you working here? I thought you’d be ensconced at the Ministry, barely protruding from the Minister’s arse.” He mopped up the spilt coffee with a few tissues.

“But this is the Muggle world,” she hissed after checking to make sure they were alone.

“I’m very painfully aware of that fact, thank you very much,” he drawled. 

The phone in Hermione’s hand began to ring, and she did a little impatient shuffle before lifting it to answer. “Yes, Beula, I’m on my way. Your latte is on your desk. Oh, you want another - right. Yes, of course.” Her conversation faded as she scuttled away.

Well, that was interesting, thought Draco and pushed her out of his head while he began to Google science projects for twelve-year-olds.

***

Draco stood over the remnants of Reggie’s science project as it lay scattered across the floor by his desk.

Milton had stormed into the office after a rather long lunch at the club, swept his arm out as he tried to emphasise whatever point he was trying to make to the person on the other end and knocked over the project. He hadn’t even said sorry. Just a quick look around, a mouthed “clean this up” to Draco before banging his office door open and slamming it closed.

The urge to bang his head on his desk was strong, and Draco gave in a little, allowing himself three headbangs before getting up to clean the mess.

While on his knees collecting the various detritus that had rolled everywhere, a pair of pretty red shoes came into view. He followed the shoes up past the ankles and knees until he saw their owner, towering over him.

Hermione Granger held two takeaway cups of coffee, an odd expression on her face.

“Can you spare five minutes?” she asked. “I’ve got a proposition for you.”

Draco glanced at the closed office door; Milton was still arguing on the phone. He quickly rerouted calls to his own mobile and followed Hermione outside.

“This isn’t a thinly veiled attempt to get me to explain to you why I’m here, is it?” Draco asked, accepting the cup of coffee from Hermione as they stepped into the rare London sunshine.

Granger snorted. “No, I have bigger problems than you working in Muggle London.".

“Oh really? So what's overriding your curiosity?” If Granger was a cat, she’d have gone through all her lives due to her curiosity.

“I don’t know about you, but I'm tired of working late every single night. I’m tired of Beula being in a bad mood constantly, and I really, really want to leave the office before midnight.”

Draco raised his eyebrows, agreeing with every statement she made. “And what’s this got to do with me?”

“You’re in the same boat as me. I looked up Milton, and he works the same hours as Beula. So how do we distract two workaholics?”

“Milton’s not a workaholic. He’s an entitled wanker who needs to get laid.”

Hermione shrugged. “I make no guarantees that Beula will put out, and that’s not what this plan is about.”

“Stop wasting my time, Granger, and get to the point.”

“We play cupid and set our respective bosses up with each other. While they’re off on dates, we get to have extra free time on our hands and maybe, just possibly, leave the office at five o'clock like normal people.”

“You can’t play cupid with people who don’t have hearts,” said Draco, thinking of Milton in love. The image disgusted him.

“Look, let’s try it at least. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Famous last words, Granger. I have to get back, but let me know what you have in mind later.”

As he walked back into the building, he turned back for a moment and witnessed Granger doing a little victory dance.

She looked ridiculous, but it only made him smile. Just a little, but it was there.


End file.
